


Looking Both Ways

by Halcyonic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, I clearly didn't think this through clearly, Identity Reveal?, M/M, My sense of humor has deteriorated to just memes, Somewhat Humorous, Tom and Harry were born in the same Era, auror!Harry, but Harry's parents are still dead because of Grindelwald?, flirty-ish! Tom, semi self-indulgent, so the humor is somewhat dubious, sort of crack?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halcyonic/pseuds/Halcyonic
Summary: During his tenure as Head Auror Harry Potter has seen his fair share of unusual cases yet he never expected to stumble upon a certain dark lord.Alternatively, Tom Riddle may have just been arrested but at least the Auror interrogating him was hot





	Looking Both Ways

Head Auror Harry Potter leaned back into his chair and propped the soles of his feet on the generic desk issued to every auror. Mountains of white sheets sat piled on Harry’s desk, threatening to fall to the floor in a jumble of paperwork. Harry almost wished that the pile would tip over, at least then he would have an excuse to delay working on the recent case. Sighing, Harry took a sip from his coffee mug. No, Harry couldn’t do that, he was an adult now and procrastinating wasn’t responsible adult behavior. 

“Hi Harry, am I interrupting anything?” Hermione Granger stood outside of Harry’s cubicle, clutching a stack of manilla folders to her chest. Her frazzled hair seemed even frizzier than usual.

“Hermione, it’s been a while! Did you need something?” Harry smiled at his best friend. Hermione looked as collected as ever (well except for her frizzy hair but Harry had no room to comment since his own hair was a complete bird’s nest). Harry was surprised at Hermione’s neat appearance; he would’ve expected there to be bags under Hermione’s eyes similarly to the other Minister for Magic candidates.

“Harry you just stopped by Burrow this morning, I would hardly call that ‘a while,’” Hermione smiled, “I hope this isn’t too much of a hassle, but would you mind interrogating someone Harry? I normally wouldn’t ask you to do this but a good portion of the DMLE still hungover from some party.” Hermione’s nose scrunched up in distaste. Harry decided to mention that he had attended said particular party, although he did not drink. 

“Hermione, I’m busy with work,” Harry replied. He scrambled in his desk and managed to grab a pen and scribbled on sheet of paper to give the impression of productivity. Hermione didn’t buy it. 

“You seemed to be pretty unoccupied when I entered,” Hermione rebutted. 

Harry laughed nervously. 

“Why can’t you ask Ron? He’s your husband Hermione. He wouldn’t refuse you,” Harry attempted to divert the subject of the conversation. Judging from the way Hermione looked at him, she knew what Harry was up but seemed willing to play along. 

“Harry, you do realize this is  _ Ron _ we’re talking about right? He practically made me do his schoolwork back in Hogwarts!” Hermione replied, folding her arms. 

“I know, I know, but Ron would gladly do it since he loves you,” Harry replied smiling at Hermione’s reaction. A bright blush settled on Hermione’s cheeks, even her ears were tinted a cherry red. 

Hermione coughed, “Er-yes. But I don’t want to give Ron extraneous work. He’s already stressed out enough helping me run for Minister for Magic.” Hermione quickly recovered back to her cool and collected self. Her blush had long receded and her voice was steadier.

“So you would be fine giving me extra work? I’m hurt, Hermione,” Harry teased. 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that! Now are you going to help me or not?” Hermione huffed. 

“Fine,” Harry sighed. Immediately after Harry replied, Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and began dragging him through the hallways of the Ministry of Magic. Hermione droned on about some details of the perpetrator Harry would be interrogating but it all went in one ear and out the other. Harry was too busy observing the paper airplanes soaring through the hallways and frantic going ons of recently hired interns to fully focus on the information Hermione was giving him. Finally, Hermione stopped in front of an oak door, she tapped her wand in an intricate pattern and the door creaked open. 

“I’m really sorry you had to do this. I’ll make it up to you, Harry. Promise.” Hermione shoved one of the manilla folders into Harry’s arms. 

“I don’t mind, Hermione, but I wouldn’t mind a box of homemade cookies as reimbursement,” Harry laughed. He watched Hermione walk off. In truth, Harry was a little peeved he had to do extra work but he wouldn’t say that directly to Hermione’s face. Harry walked through the door and smiled warmly to the lady seated at a nearby desk. The woman flushed a bright red and began whispering surreptitiously to the lady next to her who seemed to be enraptured by the pile of legal documents in front of her. 

“H-head auror? What brings you here?” The woman stuttered. Her face was a bright red and she seemed to be hyperventilating. 

“Hermione Granger wanted me to interrogate someone,” Harry answered. 

The lady squeaked, “Er, please go right ahead, Mr. Potter. Stop at the third cell on the right.” Harry smiled at her again and the lady squealed and darted behind the other woman, who Harry presumed was her friend. Harry heeded her directions and arrived at the door she directed him into. Harry tentatively knocked on the door even though it wasn’t necessary and stepped passed the threshold.

There sitting on a plain steel chair was the most stunning man Harry had ever seen. He had high cheekbones and aristocratic facial features. His black hair was impeccably styled and he wore a suit that seemed far more formal than the situation needed. 

“Good afternoon,” The man greeted. His voice was a deep baritone. A smirk rested on his lips, no doubt he noticed Harry checking him out. Harry shakily returned the greeting. He had to remain professional. He was  _ not  _ ogling some very attractive man that could have committed numerous crimes. 

“I’m Head Auror Harry Potter and you are?” Harry introduced himself. An odd look crossed the man’s eyes at the mention of “Head Auror”.

“A pleasure to meet you Harry, my name is Tom Riddle,” Riddle smiled, “I would imagine someone with the highly esteemed title of Head Auror would have better things to do than talk to me.” 

“Not really,” Harry bit his lip to stop himself from oversharing, “Well my best friend asked me to do her a favor and I couldn’t say no.” Harry laughed sheepishly. 

“Ah, people can be quite bothersome,” Riddle mused.

“At times, I guess. Although, I usually enjoy people’s company though,” Harry replied, “Anyways we should get back to business.” Harry opened the manilla file Hermione had given him sloppily, causing it’s contents to scatter to the floor. Harry bent over to pick the papers up. Riddle chuckled. Harry quickly organized the papers in some resemblance of order. He was really regretting not listening to Hermione. “It says here that you were arrested and there were traces of dark magic on your wand.” Harry read. 

“Is there any evidence that’s truly incriminating,” Riddle asked. Harry glanced at the parchment. He probably appeared woefully unprepared to Tom (not that Harry cared, ok, he kind of cared, just a little though).

“It says here that you have to pay a fine but the spells you casted were just barely legal so in that respect your fine.,” Harry paused to smile reassuringly at Riddle. He couldn’t help but notice that Riddle was looking at him a little to intently, “We just put you in questioning because of the Lord Voldemort situation. These days there’s a lot of suspicion on Dark Wizards,” Harry replied. 

“It intrigues me how you can say such a name as Voldemort so carelessly. Everyone I know refers to him as You-Know-Who or some other title,” Riddle noted. He leaned forward and rested his chin on the heel of his hand. 

“You called him Voldemort as well,” Harry argued. Riddle’s smirk widened but he did not deign Harry’s response worthy of a reply. Harry was starting to find that smug smirk infuriating. 

“I’ll be blunt. Do you know anything related to Lord Voldemort?” Harry asked. Riddle shook his head, still smiling. Harry internally sighed in relief. Riddle seemed like a pretty interesting guy and Harry would like to get to know him better; he would have to arrest Riddle if he had connections with Lord Voldemort. 

“You seem relieved,” Riddle noted.

“I’m just glad I’m not sitting in the same room as a Death Eater,” Harry replied.

“I can see why that would be unnerving,” Tom said. Harry smiled at him. 

“Continuing on, why were you casting dark magic?” Harry asked. He couldn’t let himself be distracted because of Tom’s attractive features. Just because the man claimed to not be related to Voldemort didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Besides Tom could still lie to him.

“And why can I not cast dark magic, Harry? Dark magic isn’t inherently harmful. It all depends on the intentions of the wielder. Surely, a light spell, could be used to cause harm if necessary,” Riddle said, smirk still dancing on his lips. Harry restrained a sudden urge to punch that smirk off Riddle’s face.

“Well you still can cast some Dark spells, but Dark Magic is more dangerous. More addictive. There’s more risk involved,” Harry replied.

“Perhaps I would prefer to live my life precariously than suffer through a mundane existence,” Riddle said. Harry could agree with him on that point. “And I assure you Harry, that I am more than capable of handling dangerous magic.” 

“If you say so,” Harry bit back. He glanced down at the manilla folder Hermione had gave him and sorted through the papers. Harry could tell that Hermione put the folder together in a rush. There was some background information on Tom Marvolo Riddle: Graduate of Hogwarts. Member of Slytherin. Headboy. Graduated with the highest grades possible. Nothing Harry didn’t know already since Tom Riddle and he attended Hogwarts around the same time. Harry wondered why someone with such a bright future would be tempted to study the dark arts. Surely, with grades like those, Riddle could’ve achieved any position in life he liked with enough determination. Harry continued looking through the papers. Other than the background info on Riddle, there was only a sheet with recommended questions to ask Riddle. There wasn’t even a report regarding why Tom was arrested. Perhaps Hermione didn’t think that information was pertinent for Harry or did not put it in because of her packed time schedule. 

Riddle coughed, “Harry,” He said to regain Harry’s attention. Harry was flustered. He wasn’t some auror in training, he shouldn't have allowed his attention to slip like that. 

“Why were you Knockturn Alley in the exact same shop that Death Eaters raided five minutes after you left?” Harry asked. 

“I’m practicing Dark Magic, Harry. That requires materials that one would not be able to buy at other business. And to answer your question, it was a coincidence. Britain doesn’t have a large variety of businesses for practitioners of the Dark Arts to choose from,” Riddle answered. 

Harry nodded. He could find no fault in Riddle’s argument. 

“But enough about me, I would like to know more about you, Harry,” Riddle purred. He leaned forward in his chair. The table was relatively short width-wise so Tom’s was just a few inches from touching Harry’s. Harry could feel his face heat up.

“I-I don’t think I should reveal personal information while on the job,” Harry stammered. He had been flirted with multiple times since he became an auror but he never became this flustered. 

A pity,” Riddle said and leaned back into his seat. His blue-grey eyes remained sharp though. Harry got the impression that they were cataloguing his every movement. 

“Then, I suppose you’ll be able to let me go? I would like to get home before it gets too dark,” Tom asked. 

“I’m afraid that’s not up to me to decided,” Harry tried to smile in a friendly matter but it didn’t have much effect judging from the dark looked that ghosted over Riddle’s face. It lasted for less that a second, if Harry had blinked he would have missed it. 

“How . . . unfortunate,” Riddle drawled in his baritone voice. His tone dropped an octave and the words though pronounced smoothly and pleasantly, held an undercurrent of danger. 

“I can ask Hermione about it. I see no reason to not let you go,” Harry attempted to reassure Riddle. Riddle smiled at Harry’s words, his smile stretched across his cheeks. Harry muttered a quick “I’ll be back,” before scurrying out of the holding cell. The door clanked loudly as he closed and secured the lock on it.

Someone coughed. Harry looked up to see the platinum blond hair of Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy stood there with impeccable posture, not a single hair on his head was misplaced. The constant smirk that seemed to be a hereditary trait among Malfoy’s still plastered on his lips. Malfoy tapped his cane impatiently and cleared his throat.

“Do you need anything Malfoy?” Harry hoped that Lucius could physically feel the contempt that radiated from his words. Somehow, Malfoy’s smirk widened, Harry didn’t think that was physically possible. 

“Potter,” Malfoy’s words dripped with displeasure, “I do hope you’re not breaking any laws. Do you have the authority to be interacting with Tom Riddle?” Malfoy eyes lip up with glee most likely because he thought he caught Harry red handed. Well, Harry would show him.

“Hermione asked me to do her a favor,” Harry replied. He could here Malfoy mutter mudblood beneath his breath and Harry clenched his fist. He would not punch anyone today. “And may I ask, what are you doing here Malfoy?” Malfoy wasn’t part of the DMLE, he had no reason to be here. Harry found the situation suspicious.

“I happen to have a . . . connection with Riddle and would like to speak with him. I also have permission to speak with him,” Malfoy gritted out through his teeth. Malfoy and Riddle knew each other? Maybe Riddle was lying when he said he wasn’t a Death Eater. Harry dubiously eyed Lucius and Lucius sneered back. Huffing, Harry pivoted on his heel and forged ahead to Hermione’s office. Once he was a good distance away Harry u-turned and walked back to the holding cell Riddle was in, smirking. The door and walls of the cell were charmed to deter any eavesdroppers but Harry wasn’t Head Auror for nothing. Harry waved his wand and muttered a few incantations under his breath and felt the eavesdropping wards slip away. So far so good. Harry wordlessly casted a spell to improve his hearing and pressed his ear against the wall.

“And the results, Lucius?”

“I’m sor-”

“-Lucius, I’m disappointed,” 

“My apologies My-”

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in a more appropriate place,”

Harry heard the soft thump of footsteps that signified that Lucius was leaving and quickly ran off before Lucius could spot him. Harry sprinted through the busy Ministry hallways before he arrived at Hermione’s office panting heavily. 

“Hermione, I finished interrogating Tom Riddle,” Harry wheezed. Hermione glanced him over, no doubt wondering why he seemed so winded. Harry tried to laugh her suspicion off. It didn’t work.

“Did you run here? Why?” Hermione’s eyes narrowed. Harry inched away but Hermione took two steps forward for everyone of Harry’s steps back. 

“I may have eavesdropped on a private conversation,” Harry mumbled under his breath. Hermione’s keen ears were able to pick up the words though no matter how quietly Harry muttered them. Hermione’s lips pulled back into a frown and she glared at Harry with disappointed eyes.

“Harry! You’re an Auror! You can’t just eavesdrop on people’s  _ private  _ conversations!” Hermione scolded while waving her hands in angry gestures.

“I know Hermione, it’s just, Riddle talked with Lucius Malfoy. We all know Malfoy’s a Death Eater. Doesn’t that just scream suspicious?” Harry explained. Hermione’s anger did not seem abated by Harry’s attempts to placate her. Hermione glared at Harry once more before groaning loudly.

“I swear Harry, how can you be so reckless? Did you even learn anything substantial?” Hermione rubbed at her temples. Harry attempted to smile guiltily at Hermione but she would not meet eye contact with Harry. 

“Er-No.” Harry mumbled. He scratched his neck sheepishly. 

“Please don’t eavesdrop on people again Harry. Especially not on the job,” Hermione sighed. Harry nodded his head earnestly. Hermione eyed Harry suspiciously. Harry would be offended, if he wasn’t planning on ignoring Hermione’s words. 

“So Hermione, what are we going to do with Riddle?” Harry asked.

“We’ll give him a fine and released him. We don’t have any incriminating evidence on him so there’s nothing we can do,” Hermione said. Harry nodded and waved at Hermione before walking off. He walked through the halls lost in thought. When Harry was a child he always dreamed to be an Auror. He thought the life an Auror would be exciting and full of perilous challenges yet here he was, grown up, doing paperwork. And although boring paperwork was a sign of peace, Harry would rather be doing something more important with his life.

It didn’t take long for Harry to arrive in Riddle’s cell. Riddle still sat in the exact same position as Harry had left him, legs crossed and chin rested on the palm of his hand. His eyes tracked Harry as Harry slinked into the chair adjacent of Riddle’s.

“You know Malfoy?” Harry tried to be polite but he couldn’t contain the utter contempt at the name Malfoy. How he hated the git. Riddle, surprisingly, laughed. Harry found that he liked how Riddle’s face lit up in laughter, it somehow made the man even more attractive than he was before.

“I take it you don’t have any fond feelings regarding Malfoy.  It’s understandable, Lucius is an acquired taste. It takes time to get past that narcissistic behavior of his,” Riddle remarked. Harry chuckled along with Riddle. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you become close Lucius,” Harry asked. Riddle seemed like a nice person but Harry still couldn’t see why someone as charming as Riddle would know such an arrogant git as Malfoy.

Riddle’s smile waned at the mention of “close”. “We were in the same year at Hogwarts. In fact, we were roommates,” Riddle said. Harry scrunched up his nose. He couldn’t see how anyone could survive seven hellish years as Lucius Malfoy’s roommate without having masochistic tendencies. 

“Are you sure you’re not dead? I don’t think anyone can survive seven years with Malfoy,” Harry joked.

 

Riddle threw his head back and laughed. The sound was deep and cheerful yet it grated against Harry’s ears. Harry was well acquaintanced with the sound of forced laughter due to his time spent at the Dursley’s.

“You don’t have to laugh,” Harry mumbled. Tom’s eyes bore into Harry’s and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. “At least not like that. You don’t need to force yourself to laugh to seem polite. I know that I’m sometimes stupid,” Harry mumbled. Why did Harry say that? What if his observation was wrong. Now Tom would think that Harry made presumptions about people. Stupid, why couldn’t Harry just think before he let his mouth run loose.

Tom still did not say anything. 

“No, it’s fine,” Tom drew those words out as if testing how they tasted on his tongue. His facial expressions remained neutral giving no hint to his thoughts. Harry laughed nervously in a desperate attempt to weaken the awkward atmosphere.

“Hermione said you could leave as long as you paid some fine,” Harry attempted to change the topic of conversation, “You can talk to a receptionist or someone else about that,” Harry stumbled out of his chair on unsteady feet aware of Riddle’s piercing eyes that tracked every one of Harry movements. Riddle also stood up in one fluid motion and followed Harry out of the door with graceful steps. Harry held the door open for Riddle.

“Goodbye,” Harry said but before he left sharp fingernails digged into the skin of his wrists, surely leaving behind crescent moon marks. Riddle’s fingers were wrapped around Harry’s wrist, tight as a snake choking it’s prey.

“I’m certain we’ll meet again,” Riddle smile was polite which was contradictory to his vice-like grip. Riddle stared into Harry’s eyes and Harry gulped. What was Riddle doing? Finally after too long, Riddle’s grip relinquished and Harry stumbled away. Harry quickly regained his composure and got the fuck out of there. Riddle was unpredictable and Harry did not want to be caught off guard again. But Harry turned around for one last glance to see Riddle’s eyes staring at him.

Eyes that seemed to flash red for a fraction of a second.

He shouldn’t have looked back.

* * *

 

Two weeks had passed and the thought of Tom still lingered in Harry’s thoughts. Thoughts of Tom’s red eyes, burning like embers, haunted Harry’s dreams. Harry was certain that he was entirely lucid when Tom’s eyes flashed red. He was certain his sleep deprived brain didn’t fabricate the whole situation. But Riddle having red eyes was impossible since the only wizard with red eyes was Lord Voldemort, one of the most fearsome dark lords of all time. The only explanation would be if Riddle and Voldemort were the same person. Yet if Tom Riddle really was Lord Voldemort why did he allow himself to be arrested in the first place? Lord Voldemort could’ve easily slaughtered any pesky aurors that got in his way.

Harry groaned and rubbed his temples. It was way too early in the morning to think about Tom Riddle and his possible involvement with Lord Voldemort. Harry downed the rest of the coffee in his mug and pulled the blanket tighter around his frame. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, pleasantly warming his skin and the smell of coffee wafted in the air. Outside, birds were chirping. It was a nice morning. Harry shouldn’t be stressing about Lord Voldemort on such a nice day like this. Harry should be in bed basking in the sun’s rays like a lazy cat. 

_ Ding! _ Harry straightened at the sound and slumped back into his seat once he realized it was just the sound of his doorbell. Was it Hermione coming to nag him about work again? Blanket still wrapped around his frame, Harry slowly stepped to the door and opened it without looking through the peephole. Tom Riddle, dressed in flawless dark green robes, stood on the the threshold. 

“Good morning Harry,” Riddle greeted. That infuriating smirk was still dancing on his lips. Harry blinked and did a double take. Was Tom Riddle, possibly Lord Voldemort, standing on his doorstep? 

“Riddle? What are you doing here?” Harry asked still somewhat stunned. Riddle stepped inside of Harry’s house and carelessly shoved Harry off to the side.

“I do insist you refer to me as Tom,” Rid- Tom said. 

“What are you doing here then,  _ Tom _ ?” Harry gritted out through his teeth. 

“Am I not welcome here?” Tom frowned. The expression was obviously fake but it still pulled at Harry’s heartstrings. Harry shook his head.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry paused, “I’m just curious about what you would want with me.”

“Maybe,” Tom reached over and wrapped a hand around Harry’s wrist before pulling him until their chests were a hair breadth from touching. Harry could feel Tom’s breath as he continued talking. “I wanted to spend time with you,” Tom finished.

Mortified by the growing hot blush spreading over his cheeks and most likely the tips of his ear’s, Harry shoved Tom away. Harry stumbled away from Tom and settled on a recliner a safe distance from Tom. Harry couldn’t get distracted by Tom. Harry had to remain calm especially if Tom was Lord Voldemort.

“About the other day-” Harry began.

“I thought I communicated my message quite clearly but it appears I will need to be more blunt. I-,” Tom interrupted. Harry’s eyebrow twitched. 

“Well, sorry for giving you the benefit of the doubt. Now are you Lord Voldemort or not?” Harry said. Instead of seeming frustrated that Harry interrupted him mid rant, Tom chuckled in an almost fond manner. 

“I would’ve killed a Death Eater if they dare to address me with as much disrespect as you have, Harry,” Tom remarked. The way Tom smirked and slightly tilted his chin upward reminded Harry of one of Ms. Figg’s cats that wanted to brag about it’s latest catch. Although in this particular scenario, Tom wanted to brag about being a notorious dark lord. There was no way that Harry was going to look impressed by the fact that Tom was the most powerful dark lord in history. That wasn’t something to be proud of! 

“I’m afraid I must take my leave soon.” Tom padded closer to Harry, “I have business to take care of,” Tom sighed. In one fluid motion, Tom grabbed Harry’s hand and gently pressed his lips to it. “Although I hope that we’ll meet again soon,” Tom flipped Harry’s hand so his palm faced upwards, “And this time, I hope you will come to me.” Tom pressed what seemed to be a folded piece of parchment to Harry’s palm and carefully guided Harry’s fingers so the paper was held securely in Harry’s fingers. And then the warm touch of Tom’s hands on Harry’s was gone. Harry blinked, starstruck, as Tom smirked once again and disapparated soundlessly. Harry just stood and stared at the spot Tom used to occupy for several minutes before he was reminded of the parchment in his palm.

Harry carefully unfolded the parchment and smoothed the creases. The parchment smelled of fresh ink and, there, written in spidery hand writing was what looked like an address. Why would Tom give Harry his address? W-was Tom hitting on Harry? Harry shook his head rapidly, that couldn’t be happening, even though it would explain a lot of things, such as why Tom touch Harry so carelessly, but would Tom, resident dark lord, really be interested in Harry Potter, Head Auror, of all people? Harry decided to file those thoughts for later. 

Harry stared at the parchment and flipped it over. The other side was also written on but it was a document Harry was quite familiar with. The paper contained a release pending the payment of $191 issued to one Tom Marvolo Riddle for the minor infraction of Jaywalking. 

**Author's Note:**

> This hell ship has hijacked my life. Please send help. I don't even know what this is I wrote. My life is a fever dream.


End file.
